Oh dear...I am listening to Matt Costa's 'Oh Dear' and it's upbeat Beatle-like pop noise is frighteningly loud yet purposedly so. As if, I am trying to wake myself up and it, the dark soy milked coffee, the blazing sun, and the new moon buzz tell me that I am waking up in such a natural way. The strong sun is like a ray of gold in an otherwise cloudy sea of season-changing brilliant greens and blues. I recall saying that I felt like I was in the video game Paperboy this morning as I swerved to avoid a derelict herd of sheep who were taking to field, squinted through layers of fog and God knows what else as I wondered where yesterday's sweltering heat went.
As I try to remember how to skip lines on this thing. Shift enter comes to me. Shift enter? What is this crap? Pause for ridiculousness. Where was I? How is it that I can notice the music and not my own thoughts? Maybe it is the cutting of the beat, and the fact that I was going to write the word rhythm, which I just got, and couldn't remember how to spell it. A former excellent speller, a former expletive that held on so tight to order and function until they failed and all she was left with was the music and the joy of everything that felt good again and again and didn't let me down. These became my values and my world and now they are the background music to the visions of my life. Minute Maid Mojo Meter or something-I just heard on one of those pesky Pandora commercials. Thank God it is followed by Matt Costa's 'Heart of Stone'-a personal theme song. I recall the countless times I ran down the beach signing this song at the top of my lungs, on the bridge over the river in the cold winter breeze, at Riff Raff beach, in cars driving to Tahoe and God knows where else. Always thinking about how I must keep my heart open to the love alive all around.
The music stops and I want it to start again rather than listen to the pondering of my own mind which I spend enough time audiencing. There's that red line. I was thinking about that word audiencing the other day. About how much it described and how theatrical the modern human is and speaking of theatrical-I am understatedly-another one of my favorites, shocked by the whole Osama drama. When I tried to do some of the things I told myself I should before I started writing, without success, I figured I should write to be "productive" and because it was something I actually wanted to do. I thought about the Osama episode. I have to interrupt this with 'Darkness Between the Fireflies' by Mason Jennings. This song is absolutely perfect. The perfect beauty of a really good song is the redemption for every annoyance ever announced. Ever. Yet there is more conversation-making than music-making in this world and I heartfully believe the reverse would alter our societies with profound reward. The transcendent function of the lyric and the melody is everlasting grace. Period.
There's that shift enter again. But now I don't care because I am feeling so good that I am willing to accept it. Reminded of Risa's sharing of the meaning of forgive: "to give for". As a sacrifice for the greater good, as a contribution to the whole. This I love. To love and be loved. To forgive and be forgiven-something to talk about. I never did research 'the forgiveness project' but I know enough of my own experience to know that one of the polar opposites of love is hate and that in my mind, anything can be forgiven. How else would we go on trying, in fear of committing a mortal sin so great that we could not be forgiven for it.
This is all I am going to say about the Osama debacle. Yesterday Venus opposed Saturn retro or whatever it was and the theme was about forgiveness. And I got to thinking: I think these Americans think they had to kill this man to forgive him. I mean: why else would you feel the need to kill someone to forgive them, avenge them, bring about justice in a non-just manner. Prove a point to a man from such a different culture that the two could literally not understand each other. Wouldn't you employ an interpreter and if it was deemed that the situation was unmitigatable, would you not call a truce to avoid more suffering to anyone? I will save my analysis of Times Square. It tells me that some aspects of evolution are on serious delay and that the status of how modern humans are communicating with and relating to each other is circa 1700 on a psychological level.
As touted, yesterday was the anniversary of the announcement of the death of Hitler. History and her archetypes repeat themselves over and over and over until the cycle is broken and this only happens when enough people solemnly cry: "No more!"
No more writing for me. Time to create something else before I am blessed to go for my walk/yoga/sunset session on this new Taurus moon and join in a 6 pm meditation for the new moon festival. Living close to the Earth, staying in tune with her pulsations and matching mine to the same, keeping my eye on what is really real to me...I am sending this joy and gratitude to this planet and its lovely inhabitants who are each learning how to love and to forgive themselves for being exactly who they are and realizing how beautiful they truly are, as they are. As we are. As I am. As I break into song...
In love,
Tara
As I try to remember how to skip lines on this thing. Shift enter comes to me. Shift enter? What is this crap? Pause for ridiculousness. Where was I? How is it that I can notice the music and not my own thoughts? Maybe it is the cutting of the beat, and the fact that I was going to write the word rhythm, which I just got, and couldn't remember how to spell it. A former excellent speller, a former expletive that held on so tight to order and function until they failed and all she was left with was the music and the joy of everything that felt good again and again and didn't let me down. These became my values and my world and now they are the background music to the visions of my life. Minute Maid Mojo Meter or something-I just heard on one of those pesky Pandora commercials. Thank God it is followed by Matt Costa's 'Heart of Stone'-a personal theme song. I recall the countless times I ran down the beach signing this song at the top of my lungs, on the bridge over the river in the cold winter breeze, at Riff Raff beach, in cars driving to Tahoe and God knows where else. Always thinking about how I must keep my heart open to the love alive all around.
The music stops and I want it to start again rather than listen to the pondering of my own mind which I spend enough time audiencing. There's that red line. I was thinking about that word audiencing the other day. About how much it described and how theatrical the modern human is and speaking of theatrical-I am understatedly-another one of my favorites, shocked by the whole Osama drama. When I tried to do some of the things I told myself I should before I started writing, without success, I figured I should write to be "productive" and because it was something I actually wanted to do. I thought about the Osama episode. I have to interrupt this with 'Darkness Between the Fireflies' by Mason Jennings. This song is absolutely perfect. The perfect beauty of a really good song is the redemption for every annoyance ever announced. Ever. Yet there is more conversation-making than music-making in this world and I heartfully believe the reverse would alter our societies with profound reward. The transcendent function of the lyric and the melody is everlasting grace. Period.
There's that shift enter again. But now I don't care because I am feeling so good that I am willing to accept it. Reminded of Risa's sharing of the meaning of forgive: "to give for". As a sacrifice for the greater good, as a contribution to the whole. This I love. To love and be loved. To forgive and be forgiven-something to talk about. I never did research 'the forgiveness project' but I know enough of my own experience to know that one of the polar opposites of love is hate and that in my mind, anything can be forgiven. How else would we go on trying, in fear of committing a mortal sin so great that we could not be forgiven for it.
This is all I am going to say about the Osama debacle. Yesterday Venus opposed Saturn retro or whatever it was and the theme was about forgiveness. And I got to thinking: I think these Americans think they had to kill this man to forgive him. I mean: why else would you feel the need to kill someone to forgive them, avenge them, bring about justice in a non-just manner. Prove a point to a man from such a different culture that the two could literally not understand each other. Wouldn't you employ an interpreter and if it was deemed that the situation was unmitigatable, would you not call a truce to avoid more suffering to anyone? I will save my analysis of Times Square. It tells me that some aspects of evolution are on serious delay and that the status of how modern humans are communicating with and relating to each other is circa 1700 on a psychological level.
As touted, yesterday was the anniversary of the announcement of the death of Hitler. History and her archetypes repeat themselves over and over and over until the cycle is broken and this only happens when enough people solemnly cry: "No more!"
No more writing for me. Time to create something else before I am blessed to go for my walk/yoga/sunset session on this new Taurus moon and join in a 6 pm meditation for the new moon festival. Living close to the Earth, staying in tune with her pulsations and matching mine to the same, keeping my eye on what is really real to me...I am sending this joy and gratitude to this planet and its lovely inhabitants who are each learning how to love and to forgive themselves for being exactly who they are and realizing how beautiful they truly are, as they are. As we are. As I am. As I break into song...
In love,
Tara
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